


Strawberry Jam

by sunniesideup



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Domestic Fluff, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I'm sort of just ignoring civil war, M/M, Smut, bucky and steve buy an orchard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunniesideup/pseuds/sunniesideup
Summary: "My mom used to make jam," Bucky says, shifting onto his back. The covers slip over his broad shoulders to reveal a lacework of scars. Steve presses his hand flat against them. "Like a lot of jam. Used to be in jars all over the kitchen floor an' in the porch. We'd go out and sell it, I think.""Sounds nice, Buck." And it really does. Steve imagines a big farm house and a willowy teenage Bucky running around covered in summer freckles and dust, arms full of jam jars. All tan and sweet and happy.---Bucky and Steve buy an orchard in Indiana.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve wakes up to Bucky staring at him. He's lying on his side next to Steve, with his hair falling out of its usual bun and the covers pulled up to his chin. He looks passive, so deep in thought that he's not really registering what's in front of him. Steve gently pulls his hand from under the blanket and brushes a stray piece of hair behind Bucky's ear, making his eyes flutter shut.

Pressing his thumb lightly against the sweet spot behind his jaw, Steve murmurs "Mornin' Buck."

Bucky smiles at that, a soft private smile. "Mornin'."

"Sleep well?"

Bucky fidgets a bit, pushing his head into Steve's palm. "Slept alright."

Their bedroom is only just light, so Steve assumes he has about a half-hour before he needs to get up. He tangles their feet together and settles back down, closing his eyes and letting his hand rest loosely on Bucky's neck. He dozes like that for a minute, until Bucky's voice interrupts him.  
  
"Did I...Did I live on a farm once?" Bucky asks, voice scratchy and a little unsure.

" Uh, 'think your grandparents had land in Indiana, you'd go on holiday there sometimes," Steve mumbles, grinning a little. "I'd get so jealous that you got to take the train."

Bucky opens his eyes and smiles, always a little smug and victorious to remember things that Steve doesn't. It makes Steve feel strange, out of his depth that Bucky sometimes measures his own recovery with Steve as his bar for 'normal'. He's glad Bucky has things for himself ,though.

"My mom used to make jam," Bucky says, shifting onto his back. The covers slip over his broad shoulders to reveal a lacework of scars. Steve presses his hand flat against them. "Like _a lot_ of jam. Used to be in jars all over the kitchen floor an' in the porch. We'd go out and sell it, I think."

"Sounds nice, Buck." And it really does. Steve imagines a big farm house and a willowy teenage Bucky running around covered in summer freckles and dust, arms full of jam jars. All tan and sweet and happy.

Feeling sappy, Steve presses his nose to the star on Bucky's metal arm, seeing how the acrylic on it is starting to crack from when he last painted the shield.

Bucky reaches and picks his phone up of the bedside table. The time reads 07:30, making Steve groan.

"Don't wanna get up."

"Only gonna be mad at yourself later if you don't."

Bucky knows him so well sometimes. Groaning again, he submits to the rational part of his brain and rolls out of bed to get ready for his run. Once he's dressed he sits down next to Bucky on the bed to tie his shoelaces.

"Coffee?" Steve asks, feeling a lazy hand press to his upper thigh.

"Please," Bucky confirms. Steve smiles and leans down to kiss him, chaste and slow, then gets up to go meet Sam.

\---

He gets back to find Bucky still in bed, sat up with Steve's laptop resting on his thighs. Steve places Bucky's Frappuccino on the bedside table and crawls across the bed on his knees, careful not to spill his own drink. Settling down next to Bucky, he takes a sip and glances at the computer screen, only to find Bucky knee deep in a real estate website under the search 'Farmland in Shelbyville, Indiana'.

"How was your run?" Bucky asks politely.

"Alright," Steve replies, then, feeling brave, "...find anywhere nice?"

"Uh, yeah, actually."

Bucky taps the screen and pulls up a stone-brick property that backs onto about six acres of orchard. It's got a large red barn to the right of it and a town nearby but apart from that its just surrounded by fields upon endless fields. It hits Steve suddenly, how much he wants it. How much he doesn't want to hang around in a city he doesn't really recognise anymore with a boyfriend who can't be on the subway or in a department store for more than five minutes without having a panic attack.

"I mean," Steve starts. "It's not like we'd have to sell the apartment or anything."

"Uh huh," Bucky replies.

"Indiana's not even that far. Its, what, a twelve hour drive away?" Bucky's not great on planes unless he's the one piloting, and anyways, hypothetically they'd have to transport all their stuff.

"Shelbyville is eleven hours and fourteen minutes," Bucky replies.

Even better, Steve thinks, taking a long drink of coffee.

"Sam goes between here and D.C..." Steve states, imagining a big farmhouse with an equally as ripped 6'5" Bucky , covered in freckles on the front porch, surrounded by jars of jam.

"Sam sure does," Bucky replies, then, "Go shower, you stink."

"Hey!" Steve cries, hitting him on the leg in mock offence.

"S'true..." Bucky drawls, teasing.

Steve scoffs and gives his almost empty coffee cup to Bucky ,watching him drink the last of it before he gets up. In the shower he thinks hard (and very much with his heart). Then he makes a decision.

Wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist, Steve walks out of the bathroom with the words already falling out of his mouth, only to be met with an empty bed. He finds Bucky in the kitchen making a sandwich, profile highlighted by the kitchen window that looks out over prospect park. Steve clears his throat and tries again.

"Want to buy a farm with me, Buck?"

Bucky cuts the sandwich in two and hands half to Steve, then says "It's an orchard."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Want to buy an orcha-"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yeah," He takes a bite of the sandwich and chews thoughtfully, then reaches and wraps a comforting metal hand around the back of Steve's neck. "I don't fit in here anymore."

Steve feels Bucky brush a thumb through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. It's soothing, like Bucky thinks leaving Brooklyn will be hard on him. It will be, Steve guesses, but not as hard as it was to come back to find the city seventy years too far in the future. Not as hard as it was to come back without Bucky.

"Me neither," He agrees.

Bucky runs his hand down Steve's arm, bringing it to rest at his wrist. "Go eat your sandwich and put on some pants," He instructs, so Steve does.

  
\---

Natasha's phone beeps.

**We're buying a farm - S.R**

She's just walking out the door when she gets the text. Immediately she drops her gym bag and sits down on the front step of Clint's building.

She calls Bucky.

He picks up on the third ring, "Nat?"

"You're buying a farm? Where?"

"It's actually an orchard," He clears his throat, then continues. "It's in Indiana, near Shelbyville."

"Isn't that twelve hours away?"

Bucky ignores her question and instead asks "Did Steve text you? He seems pretty excited about it."

"Yeah," Natasha confirms, then "Why are you buying an orchard twelve hours away?"

"Need to get out of the city."

That's fair, Natasha thinks.

"I figured he'd be less, y'know, enthusiastic about it?" Bucky continues. "Brooklyn's always been his home. He just seems kinda relieved to leave, though."

 _You've always been his home_ , Natasha thinks. She remembers when Steve first woke up, how utterly lost he was. Remembers when he first realised Bucky was alive and, even in all his winter solider glory, how he still fought for him. Fought ten times harder than he did against the Chitauri or Ultron. Bucky brings him to life, even if it's with rage or fear or irrational hope.

"Everyone needs a break sometimes," She says.

"Guess so," Bucky replies after a beat.

There's a pause, then Natasha teases "An orchard though, Barnes?"

"Go fuck yourself," Bucky replies fondly before hanging up.

Natasha's phone beeps again, she opens the notification to find that Steve's sent her a screenshot of a pleasant stone-brick house with trees and red barn in the background. It's the last place she'd imagine them living, she thinks that's probably a good thing.

 

\---

Sam's phone beeps.

**We're buying a farm - Steve**

For a second Sam thinks Steve is trying to force him into co-ownership of said farm, but remembers that 'we' usually refers to Steve and Bucky now. Not that Sam's particularly bummed out about that, he'd rather not buy a farm and he's glad Steve's all happy sappy with his boy. Still, it's strange how things change.

Sam just texts back 'Whaat?'

**Actually, it's an orchard. It's in Indiana - Steve**

Before Sam can reply 'isn't that like 12 hours away?' Steve sends a photo of an old stone house with trees and goddamn bright red barn behind it.

Sam texts back 'Whaat?' again.

**Want to help us pack, we're leaving Monday? - Steve**

That's three days from now, and unfortunately he's doing absolutely nothing. Don't get him wrong, Sam loves Steve, but there are only a handful of things more boring that helping other people move house.

Sam types a hasty 'Sure thing.' and presses send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic and I low-key have no idea what I'm doing, I don't even have Word on my laptop so I'm writing this in a notes app. However, I have got this whole thing planned out so it won't be a complete hot mess. Kudos and feedback are appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's sat on the steps outside the apartment, slightly sweaty and glaring at the mattress they just moved. Steve puts the last box down and joins him, slapping him on the back with false enthusiasm.

"You're a real trooper, Sam."

"I fucking hate you, man," Sam replies, shoving him good-naturedly.

"Hate is a _strong_ word," Steve teases."Compensating for something?"

"You could have moved that-" Sam points an accusing finger at the mattress next to them. "-by yourself. Clearly I'm just here to be shamed..."

"Can't have you getting too egotistical."

Sam just shoves him again, then checks his watch and says "I've got to get going soon."

Steve nods and rests his elbows on his knees. "Can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Me neither. Part of me thinks I should be telling you to stay," Sam confesses, stretching his legs out down the steps."You deserve this, though. Deserve a break."

"Bucky deserves this." Bucky deserves everything good under the sun, and Steve'll be damned if he doesn't try to give it all to him.

"You both do." Sam states, before shifting and pulling himself to his feet.

Steve follows him down the steps, then holds out a hand for Sam to shake. He just rolls his eyes and pulls Steve in for a hug.

"I'll miss you, man. Tell Bucky I said hi," Sam says, voice muffles slightly in Steve's shoulder.

"Will do, and I'll miss you too."

After a beat they step apart. Steve thinks about all the shit they did together to get where they are now. He feels an immense sense of gratitude, the kind that's impossible to convey properly on such short notice.

"Thank you, Sam," Steve settles for.

Sam just punches him on the arm lightly. "Quit being so sentimental, I'll probably see you soon anyway."

Steve smiles and does mock-salute, Sam copying the gesture before he walks away.

"See you around! Don't throw your back out walking too fast!" Steve shouts.

Sam just flips him the bird and starts to talk back, but a shiny blue pickup truck interrupts him with a beep as it rolls past. Steve watches and laughs as Sam does a double-take and directs his middle finger at it while he walks.The truck pulls up to the sidewalk to reveal Bucky in the drivers seat. He rolls down the window all the way and gives Steve a grin.

Steve makes his way down the steps ,giving a low whistle. "Where'd you get that?"

"Clint," Bucky says, shrugging and turning his attention to a sat nav on the dashboard.

While Bucky plays with the sat nav, Steve pushes the mattress into the back of the truck and places the boxes on top before tying everything down. Happy that all their things are secure, Steve skips around the to driver-side door and rests his forearms in the window.

He clears his throat and then, in a deep silly voice, says "License and registration, please."

Bucky just glances at him, huffing a laugh through his nose before leaning down and gently resting their foreheads together. The gesture turns Steve's insides to absolute goo, Bucky being sweet is and always has been his Achilles heel.

Bucky sigh against his face, then murmurs a soft "Punk." before brushing his lips to the corner of Steve's mouth and pulling away.

"Jerk," Steve says, voice equally as gentle as he steps back and opens the door. Bucky raises an eyebrow at him.

"Scoot over," Steve says.

Bucky arches his eyebrow even higher.

"Scoot! I wanna drive," he insists until Bucky rolls his eyes and does just that ,shuffling along the tan leather until he's comfortable.

"You even know how to use a that?" Bucky teases, nodding at the sat nav as Steve climbs in.

Steve just mock-glares at Bucky until he cracks a smile. Then he pulls away into the road and just like that ,they're off.

\---

Bucky watches intently as they cross the bridge between New Jersey and Pennsylvania. It's not particularly attractive, trees still bare of leaves as it's only just spring, but Bucky seems happy enough. Steve turns on the radio, the generic pop music acting as white noise as the drive.

_But she said, where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts._

He smiles at the song and glances at Bucky. They hold eye contact for a beat until Bucky's steel blue eyes come to life and they both burst out laughing.

_Some superhero ,some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to, somebody I can kiss._

Voice light, Bucky barks "Watch the road, asshole."

"This is fuckin' crazy, Buck," Steve replies hysterically.

The thing is ,it really is. It's crazy that they just got up and went. Crazy that they're even here to listen to generic pop and to drive down a highway that neither of them were around to see the construction of. Crazy that they still work together so well despite all the odds.

"Oh sure, _this_ is the one thing out of all the shit you do that's crazy."

"Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of Indiana, Buck?"

"Nah," Bucky drawl, then a little more serious, says "The little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him."

Steve bites his lip to stop himself from grinning like some lovesick idiot. "Whatever you say," he replies, giddy eyes flicking from the road to Bucky and back again.

"Eyes on the road, Rogers."

_Oh, I want something just like this._

\---

They stop in Harrisburg to stock up on snacks and gas, and to stretch their legs. Bucky usually gets restless if he has to sit still for long periods of time, but he seems in good spirits as they hop back in the truck. Steve lets him drive, happy to doze against the window.

After a while, Bucky nudges him awake to reveal that they've come to a stand-still in the traffic. The cars around them glitter in the sun and someone on the radio is murmuring about highway maintenance, the volume turned right down.

Bucky rests his flesh arm along the back of the seat and gestures his head "C'mere."

Steve goes willingly, if a little sluggish, curling into Bucky's side and resting his head on his shoulder. He tucks one foot up onto the seat and closes his eyes again.

"Don'tcha need two arms to drive?" Steve sighs, pushing his nose into Bucky's neck. He smells a bit like highway air and potato chips, but it's comforting none the less.

"Nah, baby. S'fine, go back to sleep."

So Steve does just that, relaxing into Bucky as he feels the car move forward.

\---

Steve wakes up about two hours later, blinking the sleep from his eyes and sitting up straight to click his spine. The clock on the dashboard tells him that it's almost five PM.

"Mornin'," Bucky teases, thumb massaging the tense tendons at the back of Steve's neck.

Leaning back into Bucky's touch, Steve asks "Where are we?"

" 'bout an hour from Pittsburgh."

"Can we stop for food?"

"Sure," Bucky says, glancing at the sat nav "-in like half an hour."

They drive for a little longer, Steve eventually giving in to his growling stomach and eating the rest of the chips. Finally, they pull into an McDonald's and order like half the menu, Steve insisting they tip the nice lady in the drive-through for handing them what feels like a metric tonne of food.

They eat in the parking lot, windows down with the sun low in the sky. It's nice, Steve thinks, to just sit and do normal things with Bucky. It's been a while since Steve's felt almost bored.

Once they finish all their food, with only half a bottle of coke left, they get out to use the rest-room and to get rid of all the trash.

Settled back in the car, Bucky says "Mind if we take a detour?"

"Whatever you want, Buck."

They drive back onto the highway, Bucky's hand resting on Steve's knee, index finger drawing rhythmic circles in time to the music on the radio. Bucky takes a left, then a right, a left and another right util Steve loses track. After a while of driving through a maze of countryside roads, Bucky pulls over and turns off the headlights.

The sun set about a quarter-of-an-hour ago, so Steve can only just make out Bucky's face in the dark.

"Uh, Buck? Why are we in the middle of nowhere?" he asks, confused as Bucky opens the door and hops out of the car.

"Just come and see," Bucky says, making his way around the back of the truck. Trusting, Steve follows and finds him re-arranging their stuff, shifting the boxes to the side to make a space on the mattress.

When he's done, Bucky holds out a hand and pulls Steve up, then leads him to sit down with him, backs against the body of the truck.

"Look up," Bucky instructs.

Steve does, and is stunned momentarily speechless. The night sky is clear, a tapestry of glittering stars that stretch all the way to the horizon. It reminds Steve of cold ,tipsy nights in France - exhausted from the war but blown away by how many stars he could see, amazed by how much was beyond the polluted haze that hung over New York. Steve hasn't seen a sky like this in a long, long time.

"I mean," Bucky starts, snapping Steve's attention away from the sky. "We could afford to go _five star_ for the night, but you know..." He gestures upwards.

Steve laughs, a little emotional. "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"Since this morning," Bucky jokes, honest and silly.

Steve looks up again, then says "Thank you, Buck."

Bucky just leans into him "Don't hafta thank me."

"No, Bucky. I do." Steve pauses to clear his throat and starts again. "The last time-"

"-Was during the war. I know."

They're quiet for a minute, drinking in their surroundings and thinking about all the goddamn time that's passed under the same sky, until Steve says "We get to have this all the time now."

"Yeah," Bucky breaths, sounding a little surprised.

Steve looks at him in the dark, and Bucky looks back. Steve has no idea who leans in first, but suddenly they're kissing, soft and needy. Steve licks along his bottom lip, feeling Bucky smile against him. He tastes sweet, like coca cola and the candy they bought for the trip. It's addictive, enough so that he can't help but press closer.

Steve shifts and swings a thigh over Bucky's outstretched legs. Bucky immediately laces his fingers at the back of Steve's neck to pull him in again. He kisses Steve hard, all hot and aching - too much but not enough. It sets Steve's insides on fire, making his toes curl with that indescribable feeling of want blazing through his veins.

Not knowing what else to do with them, Steve puts his hands on Bucky's torso, palms flat against his ribs. Steve gets off on how Bucky is still bigger than him, his body harder - all sharp curves and hands that fit perfectly around Steve's waist. They both work out, the difference being that while Steve does it to burn off energy, Bucky does it to maintain muscle mass. It's partly to do with decreasing the strain that his metal arm puts on his spine, but Steve thinks it's also partly because Bucky knows that he likes watching him hit the weights and do an unnecessary amount of one-armed press-ups. Bucky's just thick, no other way to put it. He could probably suffocate Steve with his thighs alone.

Steve thinks that's a very Natasha thing to do, and briefly wonders who taught who. Then Bucky bites hard on his bottom lip and his brain goes blank for a minute.

Bucky kisses him slow and steady, licking into Steve's mouth and nipping at his bottom lip. Feeling himself getting hard in his pants, Steve just pushes his hips further into Bucky's embrace and lets him take the lead, lets Bucky bite and groan put his hands on him all he wants.

After an painfully long minute, Bucky breaks the kiss and leans back. His head thuds gently against the truck and Steve tries to chase him, but Bucky pushes him back gently.

"Buck.." Steve breaths, rolling his hips, desperate to give his aching cock some relief. Steve can feel Bucky hard in his own pants and watches as his eyes flutter closed for a beat. He looks like absolute sin in the low light, all black eyes and sharp cheekbones in the darkness. He slides his hands down Steve's chest, slowly trailing over Steve's abs until he reaches the bottom of his shirt. Steve's abdomen tenses at that, waves of arousal making him ache in the best way.

"Off." Bucky demands, voice full of gravel.

Steve shuffles back a bit and does as he's told, tugging the shirt over his head and throwing it behind him carelessly. Bucky takes a harsh breath in and reaches for Steve, wrapping both hands around his thighs and pulling him impossibly close.

He tugs on Steve's thighs again, pulling him up so he's kneeling, the perfect height for kissing along Steve's chest. He wraps his arms tightly around Steve's waist and goes to town, mouthing over Steve's pecs until his nipples harden. Slightly self-conscious, Steve muffles a moan into the top of Bucky's head. Since the serum, Steve just _feels_ more. So when they're as deep into foreplay as they are now, his entire body feels electric. Sometime's it makes him embarrassingly easy to get off, but it also makes Bucky's mouth feel incredible. Bucky bites gently on Steve's nipple, rolling it leisurely between his top teeth and bottom lip. It stings so good that Steve tosses his head back, drawing in a sharp breath. He digs a hand into Bucky's hair and grinds his cock into Bucky's abdomen, the material of his tank top scratching against his abs and making him shiver.

Bucky growls as Steve pulls at his hair, the sound doing stupid things to Steve's insides. Steve's other hand finds it's way onto the roof on the truck, clutching so hard that he hears the metal creek. The noise clears some of the fog in his head, giving the rational part of his brain room to pull his attention to the fact that they're at the side of the road where anyone who goes past could see them.

"What if-" Steve gasps as Bucky moves his attention to Steve's other nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. "-what if somebody drives past?"

Bucky stops kissing at his chest, making Steve whine all breathless and needy. He then looses his grip around Steve's waist, letting him drop so his ass hits Bucky's thighs. The friction from the movement against Steve's dick makes him moan, pre-cum wetting the inside of his briefs, Bucky always gets him like that, dripping and messy.

Bucky just hums at him soothingly in reply, one hand brushing over Steve's back and the other foraging around next to him. Steve sees Bucky procure a blanket, only to throw it over their heads.

"There," Bucky laughs, deep and a little distracted from lust. He pulls Steve close again and kisses him softy. The gesture makes Steve heart flutter faster, not with lust but with the feeling of how much he loves Bucky. How he really, really loves him. How Bucky's always there to take care of him and make him laugh, to throw a blanket over their heads like a dork just to sooth Steve's jelly-brained concerns.

Steve doesn't think it's really the right moment to say all that, so instead he just kisses Bucky back. Insistent but gentle until he can't take it anymore.

"Bucky, please.." Steve whines against his mouth, rutting against him.

"What d'you want, baby?" Bucky mumbles in-between kisses, "Give you anything you want, Stevie. Tell me what you want."

"Want you, ah, want you in me."

Bucky pushes his hips back into Steve's, making them both groan. "No lube though."

Getting impatient, Steve breaths "'fucks sake, just touch me, Buck."

"I am touching ya," Bucky jokes, brushing his nose along Steve's jaw and massaging his thumbs into the v of Steve's hips.

Growling, Steve moves his hands from Bucky's hair and makes to unzip his fly, but Bucky relents and does it for him. He cups Steve through his damp briefs with his flesh hand and squeezes lightly, making Steve give an embarrassing sort of squeak.

Steve feels Bucky smile against his neck at that. "Feeling good?" Bucky teases, hand tightening around him.

With Bucky's hand twisting around his cock in all the right ways, Steve's too overwhelmed to even care about sassing him back. He just swallows audibly and gives a broken moan as he breaths out, pushing further into Bucky's hand so it's trapped between their bodies.

With his free metal hand, Bucky tugs Steve's underwear down. "Look so good like this, _sound_ so good like this. Drive me crazy, Stevie..."

He drags his hand up and down Steve's length. Almost dizzy with pleasure, Steve's chin hit's his chest, feeling the heat in his stomach quadruple.

Bucky runs a thumb across his head and just like that Steve's cumming, whimpering and biting his lip raw as he spurts over Bucky's fist. Bucky strokes him through it smoothly, until Steve feels too sensitive and has to push his hand away.

"Jesus, you're so gorgeous like this.." Bucky mutters against Steve's forehead. Dazed, he clutches at Steve's wrist and desperately grinds his hips up into nothing. Coming back to himself, Steve unzips Bucky's jeans and immediately gets to work. He starts at the base of Bucky's cock, rotating his wrist gently just the way Bucky likes before moving his hand in a sure and steady rhythm along his length. Bucky's just as wet as Steve, pre-cum pearling at the tip of his dick and drooling all over them. It makes Steve a little smug, the fact that he drives Bucky just as crazy as Bucky drives him.

Bucky settles his metal hand over Steve's ,the plates shifting and re-calibrating with every stroke ,and exhales hard through his nose. Steve's not really a talker during sex (that's more Bucky's forte) but he is, to his embarrassment, a whiner. Bucky, on the other hand, seems to forget how to breath properly when he gets really into it. Huffing hot and harsh into Steve's skin, gasping when Steve moves his fist differently and sighing into every kiss.

It turns Steve on so bad it hurts.

He can feel himself getting hard again and grinds into Bucky's thigh. The rough material of his jeans catching against the head of his dick, pulling a choked moan from his mouth. Bucky pushes his face into Steve's neck, lips grazing his throat, and gently pushes Steve's hand away from his cock. He then adjusts them so he can wrap his metal fist around both of them.

"Christ..." Steve whispers, heat surging in his groin as pre-cum leaks steadily out of his cock. Bucky feels amazing rubbing up against him, warm and heavy in comparison to his hand.

"Always so..." Bucky rolls his palm over their sensitive heads, making them both shudder. "So wet for me."

"Feels so good, Buck," Steve keens, shutting his eyes tight as Bucky speeds up the pace of his hand. He feels Bucky's hips shift underneath him, thrusting lightly in time with his fist. "You close?"

"Yeah," Bucky rasps, tossing his heady slightly. Steve moves a hand from Bucky's hip and runs it through Bucky's hair, entwining his fingers so he can tug on it. "Jesus, baby. _Yes_."

Steve discovered Bucky's thing for hair pulling by accident during a slightly awkward sparring session, but now abuses it liberally in the bedroom. He scratches his nails along Bucky's scalp, making him shiver and tighten his fist. Bucky moves his hand even faster, the friction driving them both insane. It's been a while since they've done this, just given each other hand-jobs like randy teenagers. Steve feels like his whole body is on fire, blood made of gasoline.

"C'mon Buck," He croaks.

Bucky hisses through clenched teeth and creates a ring with his thumb and forefinger, rotating it right underneath their cock-heads. He's being selfish now, paying more attention to his own desperate and weeping cock than he is Steve's. Steve loves that, loves when Bucky puts himself first and takes what he wants.

"C'mon Bucky. Let go."

Bucky shudders at Steve's words, groaning his name as he as he cums hard. The feeling of Bucky's cock twitching and spurting against his own pushes Steve over the edge. He presses his forehead to Bucky's collarbone and moans long and low in his throat, feels the pleasure bleed through his entire body in waves. It always feels more intense the second time round.

"Baby..." Bucky breaths into his neck, voice wrecked as Steve slumps against him.

At some point the blanket slipped off onto Steve's shoulders, so the slightly cool night breeze doesn't hit his back, only runs gently through his messy hair. Bucky wipes his metal hand on his jeans and then loosely wraps his arms around Steve, thumb brushing against his tailbone.

After a few minutes of just sitting wrapped up in each other, Steve mumbles "I think we got jizz on your shirt."

"You don't say?" Bucky laughs ,all fond and sappy.

Steve just shifts and presses a long kiss to Bucky's cheekbone. He then rests his forehead against Bucky's temple and yawns.

"We should sleep," he murmurs.

Bucky hums in agreement, then pats Steve's thigh and murmurs "Shift."

Clambering off of Bucky's lap, Steve pulls the blanket tightly around his shoulders and shuffles out of his pants before pulling his underwear up. He then settles down next to Bucky, head resting on his chest. Bucky drapes his arms around him and buries his face in Steve's hair.

Steve takes one last look up at the stars and closes his eyes, anchored by Bucky's warmth.

"Love you," he says softy.

"Love you too," Bucky whispers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, kudos and feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Quick thanks to ongelma for recommending a great writing website! Made my life so much easier :D


	3. Chapter 3

As usual, Steve wakes up first. It's still dark, with the sun only just beginning to rise, so everything softened and neutral in the pre-dawn light. Steve untangles himself from Bucky and sits up, breathing in the clean air. They really are in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by never-ending fields and underneath a wide-open sky. Steve doesn't think he's ever been in such an open place. Even the most barren war zones have a certain fullness to them.  
  
He shuffles around and covers a still sleeping Bucky over with the blanket before pausing to just appreciate him. His hair is a mess from last night, the strands shifting softly against his nose in time with his breathing. Steve reaches out to gently brush them from his face, fingers pausing to linger on the back of his head.

Bucky is just so damn pretty, with his dark eyebrows and cheekbones you could cut glass on, that sometimes Steve has no idea what to do with himself.

When Bucky first came back, sleep was the first basic necessity he got the hang of. His body clock was all over the place, usually sleeping in two to four hour stretches randomly over a 24 hour period. At first, Bucky didn't really get nightmares, too caught up in emotional shock, but hat changed once he organised his sleeping schedule. Some nights were bad (a lot of nights, really) but they worked through it as a team. Sometimes Steve thinks that's all relationships really are - good teamwork. 

He sits for a moment, just taking Bucky in, before climbing out of the truck and going to find their back-packs in the front seat. He grabs a water bottle and some protein bars, then picks up his now dusty t-shirt from where he threw it the night before. Climbing back into the truck, he forages around until he finds the box with their clothes in and pulls on a new shirt and underwear.

He sits back down next to Bucky, with his back resting against the body of the truck and a thigh pressed against Bucky's shoulder. Immediately, Bucky rolls over and presses his face into Steve's leg, curling his left arm around his knee.

"Hey, Buck," Steve murmurs, resting his hand in between Bucky's shoulder blades. 

Voice muffled into Steve's leg, Bucky gives a quiet "Hi," in return.

Steve trails his hand down Bucky's spine. "Sleep alright?"

"Yeah, s'quiet," Bucky replies, voice thick with sleep.

Steve smiles and tugs gently on the back of his shirt. "Gonna hafta get going soon if we wanna get there before dark."

Bucky groans and pushes himself up so he's sitting next to Steve, then looks down at his shirt and grimaces. "You weren't joking about the jizz..."

Steve just shakes his head in fond exasperation as Bucky pulls off his shirt, he then leans forward and wraps an arm around Bucky's bare shoulder, pulling him against his chest.

Bucky grabs the water bottle out of his hand and unscrews the top, then hesitates, before turning around in Steve's embrace. He grins, all wolfish and a little bit sexy, then the next thing Steve knows he's being kissed hard.

"Gross," He whines, turning his head to the side and leaving Bucky to kiss along the side of his face. "Morning breath."

Bucky just laughs against his cheek, and it's goddamn music to Steve's ears.

\---

They get breakfast at a diner on the side of the road, then spend the rest of the day driving through Ohio, stopping just outside Cincinnati for lunch. After they've eaten their weight in fast food, Steve goes to find a grocery store while Bucky waits in the car.

With enough food to last the week, they set off again. They're about an hour and a half away from Shelbyville, and Steve feels all sick and excited knowing that the next time they stop they'll be in their new house, in their new home.

By four PM they're driving through a labyrinth of country lanes. With the traffic, it took them a little longer than planned to actually get off the highway but according to the sat nav they're almost at the house.

They come to a fork in the road and take a left, guided by a beat up sign that reads 'Nelson-Green Orchard' in faded black paint. Steve grips the steering wheel and tries to take in everything about the moment. The dry grass in the middle of the road, the way the sun shimmers off of the hood, the fresh air and the way the house looks, slowly growing as they crawl towards it.

Then there's Bucky, sat by his side like always. He's leaning on the frame of the open window, solid and warm with his hair floating in the breeze. His eyes are half open, kind of glazed over and passive like he's daydreaming. Steve reaches out a hand and tucks his hair behind his ear, making him blink and turn his head.

Bucky raises an innocent eyebrow and Steve smiles, throat tight with the same intoxicating feeling that Bucky's been giving him since the thirties. He looks back at the road, but catches Bucky smiling out of the corner of his eye, dimples in his cheeks making him look all boyish and cute despite the fact that he's over 200 pounds of muscle (and metal).

Bucky reaches for Steve's hand as they draw closer to the house. Pulling up to it, it looks just like the photos from the website. The house stands to the left, one wall turned orange from the sunshine, and the firetruck-red barn sits to the right of it. There's a bare patch of lawn between the two buildings and then the orchard sits behind everything, serving as a backdrop that reminds Steve of the fairy tale sets he used to paint for the local theatre back before the war.

Steve park the car and the engine rumbles to sleep. Neither he nor Bucky making to get out. Instead they just sit there, holding hands and anchoring one another.

"I," Bucky starts, looking straight ahead. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah?" Steve replies, confused as he undoes his seat-belt, shifting along the seat until their shoulders are pressed together. "I love you too."

Bucky looks at him. "No. I mean like _really_. I really love you."

Steve cups the side of Bucky's face with his hand. "I know, Buck."

Bucky breaks eye-contact again and sighs, almost frustrated by the fact that sometimes it's impossible to even convey his own feelings, by the fact that sometimes experience can't be put into words. Steve gets it, he really does, because he really loves Bucky too.

Leaning his forehead against Bucky's temple, Steve murmurs "You make me feel it."

Bucky turns so their noses touch. "Feel what?"

"You make me feel loved." He continues, feeling Bucky's jaw tense under his palm. "You do, okay? You do. So don't worry about it."

Bucky wraps his right hand around Steve's forearm, then leans in to kiss him. Steve meets him halfway, kissing back with the kind of desperation that reminds Steve of the way they used to kiss during the war; hot and needy and aching, yet with something deeper than just lust.

Bucky pulls away first, but lets Steve chase him for one last chaste kiss. Then he puts his face in Steve's neck and mumbles "M'not worried about it."

Steve just smiles into his hair, all bittersweet. They both know that's a lie. 

"C'mon," Steve says, squeezing Bucky's metal hand with his own. "Let's go see inside."

They both get out of the passenger side door so they don't have to untangle their fingers, and don't pull apart until they have to start moving their stuff in.

\---

They put all of the boxes in the hallway, ready to be organised in the morning, then Bucky makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. The previous owners left behind some furniture, including a big oak dining table in the kitchen, complete with thee matching chairs. They sit next to each of and eat in silence, feet tangled together while Bucky makes a list on his phone of all the stuff they need to get.

As they eat, Steve watches the sun set from the kitchen window above the sink, the barn silhouetted against a deep orange sky.

Bucky leans his head on Steve's shoulder. "Wonder why it goes so orange..."

"Dunno," Steve replies, and he's okay with not knowing. For once, they have time to find out.

They watch until the sky goes dark, and carry themselves off to bed.

They didn't actually bring the bed frame, so Bucky just puts a clean sheet on the mattress. He then magics up a desk lamp from somewhere and plugs it into the wall before putting it on the floor next to their make-shift bed. They lie down under the same blanket from the truck, legs tangled together and shoulders pressed close.

It's quiet. Really quiet. All Steve can hear is Bucky's soft breath and then...nothing. No car tires on wet tarmac or wailing sirens or blaring horns from impatient cabs, no people making noise as the city blinks bleary-eyed through the night. Just silence. 

"I can't sleep," Steve murmurs into the dark.

"Me neither," Bucky answers, picking up his phone from next to the mattress. Steve doesn't catch the time with the screen at the wrong angle, but it feels late.

He rolls onto his front and presses his cheek to the top of Bucky's head. "Wanna fool around?"

"Still no lube."

Steve sighs and sinks back into the pillow, cursing himself for forgetting it when he went shopping. Then again, he's not really in the mood - more just happy that they get to be alone together. Steve realises it's been a long time since he's felt truly alone with Bucky.

Turning his head, Steve watches the moonlight glint off of Bucky's metal arm. It highlights his face too, running through his hair and reflecting light blue along the bridge of his nose. He looks ethereal. Beautiful in a way Steve can't describe, in a way that makes him itch for a pencil and paper.

"You have a nice nose," Steve mumbles after a beat.

"Thanks," Bucky laughs, his trailing his flesh hand down Steve's forearm before linking their fingers together. "You have a nice nose too."

"You were always pretty good at setting it right when it got broken."

Bucky shifts onto his side, then runs a shiny metal finger down Steve's nose. Steve's follows his it with his eyes, vision doubling until Bucky gently flicks the tip. Sluggish, Steve whines plaintively in protest and rolls away. Bucky just laughs, following him and wrapping his arm around Steve's waist, the metal cool and comforting against his ribs.

They rest like that for a moment, Bucky's breath soft at the nape of Steve's neck. Despite feeling warm and relaxed, Steve still feels wide awake. Half-restless from travel and half excited to actually own a proper house with Bucky, a house with a porch and a garden and a big kitchen like the ones that used to be in magazines before the war.

Bucky must sense Steve's restlessness, because after a minute he whispers "Still can't sleep?" into Steve's neck.

Steve shakes his head, Bucky's stubble scratching against his skin just softly enough for it to feel good.

"Can I...can I read to you?" Bucky asks.

Steve smiles at the request. When Bucky first came back to him, he had problems with speaking for long periods of time in front of people, something to do with sensory overload from having the freedom to just say whatever he wanted to. As a result, Bucky's therapist had him reading aloud as much as possible. Together, he and Steve read through a small mountain of children's books - a mountain they conveniently dumped by the mattress for later.

Steve turns around in Bucky's arms and presses a kiss to his chin. "Sure Buck. That'd be nice."

Bucky stumbles out of bed and turns on the desk lamp. He digs through the pile of books before selecting one, then returns to Steve's side. He shows Steve the cover, which reads 'Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets' in silver letters. Steve smiles and nods in approval. Both Sam and Natasha had been pestering them for ages to actually start the second book in the series.

Steve opens his arms in invitation and Bucky shifts to settle his head on Steve's chest. Pressing close, Bucky clears his throat and starts to read.

"Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive..."

\---

The next day passes in a blur of unpacking and arranging. The house still looks a little empty afterwards, the walls and shelves bare. They left a lot of their stuff at the apartment, most of their furniture belonging to SHIELD anyway. Even without a lot of things, the place feels like home.

Bucky makes Spaghetti for dinner, and they eat on the porch. Bucky doesn't say a lot, busy considering the empty patch of grass they have to work with. There's about half an acre between the house and the barn, a neat rectangle with absolutely nothing on it. They finish their food and Steve swears he can hear the cogs in Buck's brain turning as they wash up, looking out through the window above the sink that overlooks the orchard.

"Let's go for a walk," Bucky suggests when they're done, excitement visible in his voice. So they head outside again to explore.

There's the remains of what used to be a path running down the middle of the orchard, so they hop over the rusted gate and follow it. It's too narrow to walk side by side, so Bucky leads as they make their way through.

It's less of an orchard and more a small wood, with the trees covered in a fine blanket of moss and their branches tangled together in such a way its impossible to tell where one tree ends and the other begins. The leaves are only just out, so everything looks alive and new. Steve thinks it's probably too early in the year for fruit, but it's nice none the less.

Bucky stops when they're about halfway through and looks up through a gap in the trees, sunlight dripping onto his face in-between the leaves. Steve steps closer, placing his hands loosely on the back of Bucky's belt and resting his forehead at the nape of his neck. He smells clean, like the coconut shampoo Natasha buys him. The bathroom doesn't have a shower curtain yet and they only had enough hot water in the tank for one bath, so in the morning they managed to fit in together with surprising ease. It was more silly than sexy, reminded Steve of when they were kids. More importantly, it reminded Bucky of when they were kids, which made Steve feel all kinds of gooey and weird inside.

"It's gonna take a bit of work," Bucky murmurs, leaning into Steve and reaching back to link their hands together. "But we should be able to actually grow some stuff next year if we clear it up over the summer."

Steve hums in agreement, overwhelmed with the fact that they actually get a next year in a place as nice as this, that one day living here might just feel normal.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, Buck." Steve says genuinely, smiling into Bucky's skin. It's been a while since he's felt this okay.

Bucky untangles their fingers and turns around, before cupping Steve's face in his hands. They feel cool against his skin, familiar and comforting.

He brushes his thumbs gently against Steve's cheekbone, pausing to just look at Steve for a minute.

"Good," He whispers, leaning it to kiss Steve, deliberate and grounding.

He tastes like home, and slightly of tomato sauce.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a little longer to write but I'm happy with how it came out! Feedback and kudos are appreciated :D
> 
> Next update will be on the 2nd of August


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, if he can get away with it, Steve just sits and watches Bucky. Sits and tries to take all of him in: his strong silhouette, his dark hair tied loosely on his head and the way his shirt hugs his back. He's beautiful. Steve thinks he could look at him for the rest of his longer-than-average life and never get bored.

Bucky's washing up after dinner, looking out over the garden. He looks gentle, lost in thought with his hands submerged in dishwater. Steve finds it almost painfully domestic and, yeah, beautiful.

Bucky puts the last dish on the drying rack, then murmurs "S'rude to stare."

Steve smiles in spite of himself and makes his way over to Bucky, hugging him from behind and nosing along his neck where his hair is escaping from its bun. Bucky leans back into him, but keeps looking out over the garden, the grass almost gold in the evening light and the barn burgundy in the shadow.

"Why're barns red?" He asks.

"You don't look red to me, Buck." 

"What?"

"You know, 'Barnes'. Like your name..."

Bucky just sighs at Steve's first-class humour, but Steve can feel that he's biting back a smile in the way his jaw shifts.

"What?" Steve grins against his skin.

Bucky turns around in Steve's arms, hands coming to rest against Steve's biceps. He drops his mock-annoyance and smiles all soft while running his hands up Steve's arms, bringing them to rest on his collar bones. The metal one feels heavier, solid against his shoulder. It makes him shiver slightly, although not with the cold.

When Bucky kisses him it's almost shy, chaste and steady until he licks along Steve's bottom lip. Steve smiles into the kiss and Bucky smiles back, teeth clacking together lightly.

Bucky brushes his fingers through the hair at the back of Steve's head and deepens the kiss. He tastes like coffee and smells slightly like dish soap, and it's nice - makes Steve feel safe. They neck like that for a bit, unhurried and warm against the counter until Steve pulls away.

"We could paint it if you want," Steve murmurs, glancing leisurely over Bucky's face as he exhales hot against Steve's cheek.

"The barn?"

"Don't see why not."

"What would we do?" Bucky asks, leaning back to look at Steve properly.

"Dunno, a giant portrait of Tony?"

They aren't exactly on speaking terms with Tony anymore, but Bucky still smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "His ego might literally explode if we did that. How about when that Parker kid wrote 'I love you' with his web on the bridge?"

"I mean, if that's what you want..." Steve teases.

Bucky laughs and shakes his head. "Coney?" He suggests.

They haven't actually been to Coney in the 21st century, but it was one of the first nice things that Bucky remembered.

"Okay," Steve nods. "Coney."

  
\---

The next day they take the truck and head into town to find paint, a shower curtain and some other stuff Steve forget while shopping on the journey there (i.e lube). They park next to a grocery store and Steve goes in to get the shopping, leaving Bucky sat on the sidewalk to google where to buy outdoor paint.

Shopping in hand, he walks out of the automatic doors and immediate throws the tub of lube at Bucky. He catches it on reflex, just like Steve knew he would, and rolls his eyes when he sees what's in his metal hand. Steve just laughs at him before helping him to his feet.

"You find paint anywhere?" Steve asks, glancing at Bucky's phone.

"Nah, internet's down. Figures someone in there would know?" Bucky gesture to the old red-brick building across the road. There's a sign above the wide-open door that reads "Library" in shiny metal letters. It looks inviting, with it's large arched windows and brownstone feel, so Steve lets Bucky pull him across the road.

Bucky visibly brightens as they step inside, looking around at the tall shelves and the old ladders on rails. He might struggle with his attention span but he's still a huge nerd.

They make their way into the heart of the library and find a desk, sat at it a young woman with choppy brown hair and a very large sweater pulled over her hands. She's tapping something into her computer with her eyebrows furrowed, but soon diverts her attention to the two of them.

"Afternoon!" She chirps, smiling warmly at Bucky. Her eyes go a little wide when she sees Steve, so he just smiles back awkwardly. It's always kind of weird being recognised as Captain America, Steve's just thankful it's her who realised who he was and not the cashier that he bought the lube off.

To Steve's relief, she regains her composure quickly. "Uh, how can help?"

"Do you know where we could buy paint? Like the outdoor kind?" Steve asks.

"Sure, there's a garden centre not far from here. I'll write you directions?"

"That'd be swell, thanks."

She rips a piece of paper out of a nearby notebook and starting scribbling. "It's a little way out of town, mostly open-air plants but they have a hardware section."

"D'you have any books on plants and stuff here?" Bucky asks.

"I mean, this is Indiana, like fifty-percent of this place is agriculture books." She teases. "Anything specific?"

"Orchards, gardening, that kind of thing."

She leans back in her chair. "So beginners stuff?"

"Yes ma'am," Bucky replies with a smile.

"We just moved here from New York," Steve chips in.

"Ah, big move then." She stands up, only coming to Bucky's shoulder in height, then steps around the desk. "I'm Harriet but you can call me Harry"

"I'm James but you can call me Bucky." Bucky replies quickly.

Her eyes go wide again, and yeah, she definitely knows who they are.

Bucky shifts next to him, only slightly so that you'd miss it if you weren't aware to look for it. Steve knows, though. Know's he's nervous about what Harry will do next. Even with someone (definitely not Natasha, shh) mysteriously leaking the photo's of Bucky in the chair a few days before his court date, some people still disagreed with Bucky being pardoned.

"How'd you get 'Bucky' from James?" She asks, and Steve feels a weird and intense sense of appreciation take over his chest. It's unexpectedly kind for her to pretend that she doesn't know them at all.

"My middle name's Buchannan..." Bucky replies, mock-embarrassed to make her laugh.

"Ah, like the president..." Harry grins as she leads them further into the library.

She glances between the two of them as they walk. "Did you know that James Buchannan was the only president to never have a first lady?"

"Appropriate..." Steve says.

Harry giggles at them and turns her attention to a shelf filled with brightly coloured books. Bucky just looks at him all fond, muttering a soft "Punk" before peering over Harry's shoulder to see what she's found.

Steve zones out a bit when they start taking about soil quality, and spies a sign few shelves over that says "Art". He touches Bucky's elbow gently to let him know he's going and leaves them to their plants.

He finds that the arts section mostly consists of books about sewing, and he first one he picks up is all about 1940's dress making. It makes him hurt a little bit, reminds him of his ma fixing up dresses for the young women who lived in the apartment above them. She always made Steve help, so when it came to hemming skirts or fitting waistlines, Steve got pretty good. It's been a while, though.

Flicking through, Steve finds that the book also includes guides to basic stitches and simpler stuff like patchwork throws and home decor, so he keeps it and browses a little longer before going to search for Bucky. He finds him back by the desk, with his nose in a book next to Harry and another member of staff, who are arguing with the kind of polite tact that only librarians seem to do.

"You're supposes to do it between November and December! We always did it November to December and ours always turned out fine," Harry says.

"No. Just no," Replies the boy she's arguing with. He looks kind of similar to Harry, with the same brown hair and bright eyes, except he has the whole 'contour' makeup thing going on, making his cheekbones stand out. "You do it in February. Otherwise the tree doesn't have time to, you know, do it's thing."

"Do it's 'thing'?"

Steve diverts his attention and looks over Bucky's shoulder at his book, which has a lot of detailed drawings of apple trees in it. Bucky leans into him and points to some writing.

"Says here you're supposed to do it in march," He whispers, making Steve snort.

Bucky shuts the books with a snap and picks up the small stack on the desk. Steve adds the sewing book to the pile and Bucky raises an eyebrow when he sees the cover.

"Y'know," Bucky murmurs with a grin. "You'd look great in a USO girl outfit."

Steve feels his face go hot and looks away. Bucky just nudges him lightly on the arm and laughs. "What? You would. Got the waist for it."

"Buck, we're in a public library."

"Such a prude…" He says, trailing his knuckles up Steve's arm.

Steve bats his hand away. "I'm not a prude."

"So you would?"

"Would what?"

"Wear a USO girl outfit."

Steve just shrugs, smiles all innocent before turning back to Harry and her co-worker, only to find them both smiling politely at them.

"Um, hey." Steve says.

The boys eye's go wide. "Whoa, you're-"

Harry steps on the boys foot and he grimaces before composing himself.

"Hey," He starts again, holding out a well-manicured hand. "I'm Chase, nice to meet you."

Slightly sheepish, Steve shakes his hand. "I'm Steve, nice to meet you too."

"Harry said you- you just moved from New York?"

"Yeah, got an orchard a few miles outta town."

"There's not lot to do around here," Harry butts in. "Compared to NY, I mean, but there's a bar just down the street if you wanna meet more of the locals. We do karaoke nights and stuff."

She hands Steve the directions to the garden centre and a flyer for the bar, and he pockets both. Neither of them can actually get drunk anymore, but Steve thinks it might be good for them both to just do something normal like hanging out and drinking with people who do normal things for a living (e.g not saving the world).

Steve thanks her and Bucky gathers up his books before they say their goodbyes. Steve puts his hand on the small of Bucky's back as they leave, and doesn't miss Chase's soft "Oh my god..." as they walk down the front steps.

 

\---

  
"I figured we'd just keep the barn red, look like a sunset or something in the background," Steve says as they put the cans of paint in the back of the truck, along with a metric fuck-ton of plants and gardening equipment that Steve doesn't understand.

"Found out why sunsets go so red, by the way," Bucky replies, taking off his backpack and pulling out a book that reads "Physics for dummies" in big white letters on the front. "All to do with how light travels."

Bucky reads aloud as they climb into the truck. "Within the visible range of light, red light waves are scattered the least by atmospheric gas molecules. So at sunset, when the sunlight travels a long path through the atmosphere to reach our eyes, the blue light has been mostly removed, leaving mostly red and yellow light remaining."

Steve leans over to look at the book, and takes a moment to take in all the diagrams on the page. "That's pretty cool, Buck."

"I know right?" Bucky replies before turning the page, and Steve smiles to himself at his enthusiasm - reminded of Bucky during the war, practically hanging off of Howard's every word whenever he talked science.  
  
Bucky reads the whole way home (Home. Steve still can't get over that) and looks kind of confused when the car stops. Steve reaches out and pushes a lock of hair behind his ear, making him blink hard.

"Wanna make dinner before we unload the stuff?" Steve asks softly.

"I- I just..."

His breath hitches and Steve can see him starting to shake slightly, hand twitching on top of his book and his left arm re-calibrating with a quiet tick-tick-tick noise. Steve immediately shuffles across the seat and puts a gentle hand on the back of Bucky's neck.

"S'alright, you're alright." He soothes.

Bucky takes stuttering breath in and glances at Steve before looking away. "I just..."

He trails off and doesn't make to start again, so Steve just sits with him, keeps him grounded as Bucky organises all the stuff in his head. Steve used to hate just waiting for Bucky to catch up with himself, used to wish he could do more and just fix it all for him. He still wishes that, but Bucky has to be the one to help himself.

After a long few minutes, Bucky sits up straight takes a deep breath in, then meets Steve's eyes and says "Dinner."

"Dinner," Steve agrees, squeezing the back of Bucky' neck before climbing out of the truck and walking around to open his door.

He takes Bucky's hand and helps him out, earning a small smile. Wrapping his other arm around Bucky's waist, Steve gently pulling Bucky in for a hug and he goes willingly, burrowing his face into Steve's neck.

"It's just all the new stuff, you know?" Bucky mumbles into his shoulder. "It's fine at the time, but now- now I just feel..."

"I know," Steve murmurs. "S'alright."

 

They stand like that for a while, anchored to one another until Bucky's stomach starts to growl.

"Dinner?" Steve asks, and Bucky give shim another smile, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

They eat and go to bed, leaving the dirty plates by the sink and the paint in the back of the truck. And they're not alright, as much as Steve says it, they're not.

They will be though, Steve thinks. They will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, Harry and Chase are already very dear to me though. Kudos and feedback are appreciated :)
> 
> Edit: putting this one on the back-burner for now as I'm writing a teacher au fic that I'm much more passionate about. I'm planning to write it all at once to be able to upload it on a proper schedule, so I'll return to this fic once that's done (probably like mid September)


End file.
